


just human

by mochibbh



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst with a Happy Ending, Ghosts, Language of Flowers, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Character Death, but the good kind of annoying, jaemin is difficult lol, jeno is a sweetheart, renjun is annoying
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-14
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2019-08-01 21:36:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16292255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mochibbh/pseuds/mochibbh
Summary: Donghyuck is the first to move; he kneels in front of the gravestone and places a single purple hyacinth in front of it.Donghyuck smiles sadly as he lets the flower fall from his fingers. “Hi, Renjun,” he says softly.Jaemin looks away.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> !!please read this before continuing!! 
> 
> hello! so this fic is an idea that began with skeptic!jaemin and believer!renjun (think shane and ryan from buzzfeed unsolved). what actually happened, though, was a bit different. 
> 
> this fic largely takes inspiration from the ano hana anime (with the general plot being similar) and [a buzzfeed unsolved fic i read last year by Lafayette1777.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12169029)
> 
> that being said, i tried to make it clear in the warnings and the tags that **_this fic deals heavily with character death._** if you aren't a fan of a story that continuously brings up death (especially as it pertains to the dreamies) then i would suggest you don't read on. 
> 
> this fic also has some very, VERY minor past jaemin/xiaojun and hints of past renmark. i didn't tag them because they're so incredibly minor, but i figured i'd mention it anyways since it does come up in the fic. i've also rated it teen and up because every character in this fic swears at least once, except for maybe chenle lol
> 
> all that being said, if you don't mind any of what i've mentioned above, then thank you for taking interest in my fic! i'll have more to say by the end of the chapter, so if you stick around for that, you'll see!

Jaemin doesn’t believe in ghosts.

He humors Jisung’s outlandish theories on aliens and the supernatural, but ultimately, Jaemin doesn’t believe any of it. Donghyuck says that Jaemin is no fun because of it, but Jaemin shrugs it off, unbothered. Why would he believe in something he can’t see?

Sometimes, though, he wishes he believed. He thinks that believing might bring him some comfort when he wakes up in a cold sweat, remembering things and people he’s tried so hard to forget. Maybe the idea that someone is watching over him during the hardest times is what brings some comfort to Jisung. After all, he hadn’t been interested in the existence of ghosts until—

“Jaemin?”

Jaemin turns his head from where he was looking out of the car’s window to look at Jeno, who’s glancing at him with concern. “Yeah?” Jaemin asks, voice scratchy and deep and tired.

They’re all so much older now.

Jeno’s concerned gaze lingers for a bit longer before turning his eyes back towards the road. “Just asked if you have time to eat out after we’re done. You spaced out again.” Jeno grips the steering wheel just a bit tighter, but Jaemin notices. “Did you sleep last night?”

Jaemin puts on the most genuine smile he can manage to try to assure Jeno that everything’s fine, which is to say the corners of his lips turn up just slightly. “I’m okay. I don’t think I can hangout after, I have a project I need to finish.” He turns his head to look out of the window again and sees the familiar scenery. “We’re almost there.”

Jeno exhales out of his nose a bit and grins. “Yeah,” he sighs.

“Hyung, wake up.” Jisung shakes Donghyuck from his sleep in the back seat and leans forward to place his hand on Jaemin’s shoulder. “Do you think he’ll be mad because we missed the last few years?” Jisung asks, voice small and nervous.

Jaemin smiles despite himself. “Of course not, Jisungie, he could never be mad at you.” He doesn’t mention that dead people probably don’t feel anything at all. He wouldn’t say that on a day like today.

The four of them drive through windy roads, up small, grassy hills, until they reach their destination. Jaemin steps out of the car and stretches his limbs, hearing them crack after sitting in the car for an hour. The air is chilly and it bites the tip of his nose, but it’s surprisingly sunny for a December day. The rest of them follow suit, getting out of Jeno’s parked car to stretch out their tired bodies.

Donghyuck is the one to go to Jeno’s trunk and retrieve the only thing they brought with them. When he has it in hand, the four of them make their way through the well-trimmed grass on the hill, taking longer than usual to find what they’re looking for. They used to make conversation on the way, back when there was more of them. This time, they walk in silence. Any attempt at conversation is stilted, awkward, and Jaemin wishes it wasn’t like this.

They stop walking at the same time and do nothing but stand there for a moment. Donghyuck is the first to move; he kneels in front of the gravestone and places a single purple hyacinth in front of it.

Donghyuck smiles sadly as he lets the flower fall from his fingers. “Hi, Renjun,” he says softly.

Jaemin looks away.

It’s nothing he hasn’t seen before. The words on the gravestone read, “ _Huang Renjun. March 23, 2000-December 3, 2012. Wonderful son and beloved friend,”_ and Jaemin doesn’t think he could forget the words if he wanted to. He puts some distance between himself and the grave to give the rest of them some time. He never says anything to Renjun, anyways—he never knows what to say.

He focuses on the view from where they’re standing on the hill instead of the fact that their young friend is buried beneath their feet. The sky is light blue and clear, and the sun is starting to make him sweat underneath all the layers he has on, even if the air is still cold.

When he feels a hand on his shoulder some time later, he knows it’s Jeno without having to look. “Did you want to say anything to Renjun?” Jeno asks.

There’s some hesitancy in his voice, but Jaemin doesn’t blame him. He’s never been very good at this. He puts his hand over Jeno’s where it rests on his shoulder. “No,” he says, making sure Jisung can’t hear him speak. He turns his head around enough to see Jisung and Donghyuck animatedly talking in front of Renjun’s grave. “I don’t know what to say.” _Renjun will understand,_ he thinks before correcting himself. _Renjun wouldn’t hear any of it even if I had anything to say._

Jeno looks at Jaemin, disappointed, but Jaemin knows that none of them expected anything from him. Honestly, Jaemin wishes he had something to say, if it meant that the rest of them wouldn’t look at him like Jeno is. But he’d rather give them the truth year after year instead of lie to himself and make empty promises to the dead.

When the rest of them have said all they had to say, they tell Renjun goodbye and make their way back to Jeno’s car.

Jaemin lingers, just slightly, before he turns his back on Renjun’s grave and walks behind his friends.

As soon as Jaemin closes the car door and settles into the seat, rain starts pouring down harder than it has all season. _But it was so clear earlier,_ Jaemin thinks to himself confusedly as he hears Donghyuck mutter something about _“unreliable weathermen”_ in the backseat.

He doesn’t think much of it as the car starts to move back down the hills. Jaemin doesn’t look back.

 

***

 

Jaemin wakes up in his apartment the next morning freezing and alone.

He expects that, of course. He lives in a tiny studio apartment by himself, and even though Jeno had offered for Jaemin to stay the night in his and Donghyuck’s apartment instead, Jaemin had just told him that he still had homework to do. It was true, but mostly he just didn’t like being the only one to intrude in their apartment, in Jeno and Donghyuck’s space. With Jisung still in high school, Jaemin really only regularly saw the other two. It feels wrong, just the three of them, not that Jeno or Donghyuck would ever say so. 

Jaemin feels like they’re three pieces of the same puzzle, but he doesn’t fit with the two of them the way they fit with each other.

So, yes, he’s alone like he normally is, but what he wasn’t expecting is the absolute, freezing _cold_ that is currently his apartment. He knows he had the heating on because it had been the first thing he turned on when he got home yesterday. And he knows it _worked_ because it felt nothing like this last night.

When he begrudgingly leaves the warmth of his bed to check the thermostat, though, he finds that it’s not broken. If there’s one thing Jaemin’s dad taught him to do, it’s to fix broken thermostats, and Jaemin can tell that it’s not broken. He furrows his eyebrows in confusion and resets it just in case. He does feel warmth circulate subtly through his apartment, so, yes, the thermostat works, but the air around him remains frigid.

 _Maybe I’m just getting sick,_ he thinks. He walks back to his bed, a bit more awake now. It’s a Sunday and he doesn’t have any class, so he had plans just to lie in his warm blankets on his bed and watch anime. His mind is set on just that, but his eyes land on the desk by his bed and he freezes in his tracks.

On his desk, amidst his laptop and various textbooks and photos of his high school graduation, lays a single purple hyacinth.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A whisper and a forget-me-not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> seems like some of y'all want more, so here u go!! 
> 
> just a reminder to mind the tags--hyucknomin is in it, but the fic as a whole is renmin focused. just a heads up if you're not into poly!

Jaemin goes about his weekly routine like normal. He goes to class, he studies, he doesn’t sleep enough at night, but he makes up for it by napping throughout the day. He did snap a photo of the flower and send it to Donghyuck, followed by several _“??????”_ messages since he was pretty convinced it was Donghyuck playing some weird prank or trying to console him in a weird way or whatever. He absolutely did _not_ tell Jisung about it because then he’d have to listen to Jisung theorize about ghosts, or even _Renjun’s_ ghost, and Jaemin wasn’t sure if he could handle that.

He put the hyacinth in a clear vase on his desk, though, because it felt wrong to just throw it out.

On Friday afternoon, during one of their weekly lunches, Jeno brings it up. It’s just the two of them, Jaemin and Jeno, and they’re eating at their favorite nearby café, so Jaemin feels safe and not like he’s teetering on some metaphorical edge like when he’s with Jeno and Donghyuck alone.

“So, what was up with the flower? Hyuck told me you texted him,” Jeno asks in between bites of pasta. Jaemin can tell he’s bringing it up nonchalantly on purpose, like he hasn’t been thinking about how to broach the subject.

Jaemin grins fondly into his salad at that. “What do you mean ‘what was up’ with it?” he asks back. “Didn’t Donghyuck leave it? We met at my apartment before we left last Saturday, so he probably left it on my desk. I just didn’t notice it until the next morning.”

Jeno pauses in his eating and shakes his head. “He would’ve said something to you if he did. Anyways, he only uses the flowers from his mom’s gardens for Renjun. You know that.”

And, yes, Jaemin knows that, of course he does. But there’s no other explanation for the flower, none that make sense anyways. He nods at Jeno and stuffs more spinach into his mouth, making sure to get some strawberries in there as well. “Well, _someone_ must have left it there. It’s not like I ever get flowers for myself.”

“Donghyuck, Jisung, and I are the only ones who are ever at your place,” Jeno says. He squints his eyes in suspicion towards Jaemin. “Unless…”

Jaemin rolls his eyes and flicks an almond from his salad in Jeno’s direction. He flails trying to deflect it, and Jaemin huffs out a laugh. “No, I’m not seeing anyone. You’d know if I was.” He looks into the distance and sighs dramatically. “No one will fill the hole that Xiaojun left,” he laments theatrically, holding his hand to his heart as if in pain.

Jeno actually snorts at that. “ _You_ broke up with _him,_ ” Jeno reminds him. “Over a year ago. Very anti-climactically, unlike how you’re acting now.”

Jaemin straightens up and pouts at his best friend before picking up another strawberry and popping it into his mouth. He only gets this salad because he likes the strawberries, anyways. “Let me have my fun.” He reaches over the table to steal a bite of Jeno’s pasta, and Jeno just watches, unamused. “Anyways, besides Donghyuck, I have no clue how the flower got there. I figured maybe he was trying to comfort me for some reason.” He mumbles the last sentence around his bite of pasta, but Jeno catches it.

“It has been a while since we visited Renjun,” Jeno says. “And it does usually… get you down.” He speaks like he’s choosing his words carefully, and Jaemin supposes he can’t fault him for that. Everyone seems to walk on eggshells with him now, afraid that talking about Renjun will break something inside him that he’s so carefully tried to hold together.

Maybe he will break, eventually. But Jaemin can’t have that, not after he’s spent so long trying to fill the cracks with apathy and salads with strawberries and everything else that wasn’t Renjun.

Jaemin shrugs. “I guess,” he says. His guard is up now, and he knows Jeno can tell, but he doesn’t know how else to talk about this without putting up walls, even if others can see through them. “Donghyuck would do something like that.”

Jeno seems to ponder this for a moment. “You’re not wrong.” His eyes flick over Jaemin’s face, and Jaemin looks back at him, his fingers curling around his cup of coffee as he lifts it to take a sip. Jeno just lets out a small sigh through his nose, like he wants to say something but decides it’s not worth it in the middle of a café at 2 PM. Jaemin thinks he’s made a smart decision.

Instead, Jeno just shows him a small grin and says, “I’ll talk to Donghyuck about it.”

Jaemin grins back at him, shoulders relaxing. He hadn’t realized when they tensed up, but he supposes it’s just a habit now. “Thanks,” he tells Jeno, standing up. “My class is starting soon, so I’ll head out first. I’ll text you later.” It’s a lie, because Friday nights are Donghyuck and Jeno’s date nights and Jaemin wouldn’t want to bother them.

He’s just about finished putting on his coat and slinging his bag over his shoulder when Jeno suddenly stands with him and grabs his hand, stopping Jaemin from going anywhere. Jaemin glances down to where Jeno’s hand holds his and looks back at Jeno, confused.

Jeno bites his lip nervously, and Jaemin tries not to stare. It’s quiet between them for a moment before Jeno speaks. “You know you’re welcome at our apartment anytime, right?” he asks. Jaemin nods, because he does know after Jeno’s made it clear so many times in the past. “Okay, just… Donghyuck wants to spend more time with you. We miss you.”

Jaemin thinks it’s a weird thing to say because he sees the two of them often enough. He and Jeno meet up three times a week to have lunch like this, and on Saturdays, the three of them spend time at each other’s apartments. He tries not to actively avoid the couple, despite Jaemin feeling like he’s suffocating when he’s with them.

“I miss you guys too.” The words are out before he can think about them, and Jaemin is surprised because he _means_ it, even though he knows it doesn’t make sense. He sees them every week, what is there to miss?

_You miss how it was before,_ a quiet whisper that sounds too much like the past tells Jaemin. The hairs on the back of his neck stand up, and he whips his head around to try to find out who just whispered to him, but there’s no one. By the look on Jeno’s face, Jaemin can tell he hadn’t even heard anything.

_I’m losing my mind,_ Jaemin thinks as he lightly tugs his hand out of Jeno’s grasp. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Jen,” he says, turning to walk out of the café to go to his class.

He doesn’t see the way Jeno watches him leave, longing spreading on his face and unfinished sentences on the tip of his tongue.

 

*** 

 

It’s 5 PM when Jaemin gets back to his apartment, and all he wants to do is fall into bed and nap before he eats, like he normally does. He ignores that his apartment is still freezing, even after fiddling with the thermostat for a week. When he moves to his desk to put down his bag and take off his coat, though, he pauses where he stands and stares at his desk.

In the middle of his desk is a long stem of forget-me-not’s.

When Jaemin realizes that he’s been staring for longer than what’s probably appropriate, he grits his teeth in slight irritation because _what the hell._ He takes his phone out of his pocket and takes a picture, sending it to Donghyuck and texting him, “ _seriously, hyuck, this isn’t funny or comforting or whatever. i didn’t give you keys to my place for you to pull shit like this. quit it.”_ He sends the message without thinking about it because he can’t think through the vague frustration that clouds his head.

He somewhat aggressively tosses his phone onto his bed and runs a hand through his caramel, almost-too-long hair. “Why does everyone treat me like I’m gonna _fuckin’_ burst into a million pieces around this time of year?” he grumbles to himself, annoyed.

“When’d you start using that kind of language? It’s so unlike you.”

Jaemin freezes again and his eyes widen at the voice. It’s the one he heard in the café earlier, except this time it’s not a whisper, it’s clear and it almost sounds like—

He scans his apartment cautiously for any signs of another person. “Who’s there?” he asks. He doesn’t see anyone in his apartment, but holy _hell_ it is cold, and he jumps when he hears an annoyed groan.

“Nana, it’s me.”

Jaemin’s breath catches in his throat—no one’s called him Nana, not since—

He turns his head to look down at his bed and sees Huang Renjun sitting in the middle of it, the sheets dipping under his weight where he sits. He looks a bit older than Jaemin remembers him, but he’s still so, so small.

Jaemin had loved that about Renjun.

Renjun’s looking up at him, not saying anything, and Jaemin opens his mouth to ask if this is some sort of joke, but instead what comes out is:

“Why are you blonde?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let me know what u think so far! thank u for your interest in this c:
> 
> if u were interested, the title of the fic is taken from the song, [human by dodie.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T60XUVrnYt4) it's cute, so go give it a listen!


	3. Chapter 3

Renjun is still just sitting on Jaemin’s bed; he doesn’t say anything, just lifts an eyebrow at Jaemin’s question, but Jaemin doesn’t follow it up with anything else. He’s not really sure what to do—there’s no book he can read about what to do when your friend who’s been dead for six years suddenly appears, sitting in the middle of your bed.

When it’s been quiet for too just a bit too long, Renjun only sighs in exasperation, and Jaemin’s heart swells at the familiarity of the action. For so long he’s tried not to think about this, to block everything about Renjun out of his head, but it’s all rushing back now.

Renjun levels him with a look that Jaemin remembers all too well, and it’s like he’s twelve again. “Why do you _think_ I’m blonde?” Renjun asks. He speaks like he’s explaining something to a child. Jaemin wants to laugh.

“I _think_ you’re blonde because I’m having some sort of psychotic break,” he answers. There’s no way this can be real, obviously Jaemin is just stressed because it’s exam season, and the situation with the flowers is psyching him out, because there’s absolutely no way Renjun can be sitting on his bed and having a conversation with him _six years_ after he died.

But Renjun’s face crumbles a bit in disappointment, and Jaemin thinks that it’s a weird thing for his mind to conjure up. “You don’t think I’m real?” Renjun asks, voice on the edge of sadness and frustration.

“Of course you’re not real,” Jaemin continues as casually as he can. “I’m just losing my mind. I’m gonna go to bed and wake up and you won’t be here, and I’m just gonna go about my day like I always do because _you’re not real—“_

Renjun’s eyebrows furrow and suddenly the room goes impossibly cold again. Jaemin hears the sound of glass cracking to his right, and when he looks at his desk, the vase is broken in pieces, the water spreading across the surface. The hyacinth sits fallen next to the forget-me-not, and both begin wilting in front of his eyes.

He’s still staring at his desk, the flowers wilted and the water beginning to drip off of his desk, when he hears Renjun mutter, “Asshole,” from his bed.

Jaemin doesn’t take his eyes off of the dying flowers for another few moments, but eventually he huffs and faces the upset boy on his bed. “Fine,” he concedes. “Fine, I’ll humor you. I’ll humor you until my mind gets itself together and you go away.” He sits himself down on the bed next to Renjun and is surprised to find that instead of heat radiating off of Renjun’s body, the air around him is chilly, like fog on a cloudy day.

He’s also surprised to find out that Renjun is, in fact, tangible. Jaemin can feel where the bed dips beneath where Renjun is sitting, so he tentatively reaches out a hand towards Renjun’s knee. He swallows when his hand actually connects with the feeling of Renjun’s jeans. It’s still cool and it feels like he’s reaching through thick fog, but the unmistakable feeling of denim is there.

_Some hallucination this is,_ Jaemin thinks to himself, nearly impressed.

When he looks up again, he’s not expecting Renjun to be looking back at him. He doesn’t look as upset as he did a few moments ago, but now there’s a look on his face that Jaemin can’t put a name to, and it makes Jaemin grin and chuckle nervously. He’s always been able to know how Renjun was feeling or what he was thinking; he wore his heart on his sleeve.

Jaemin’s not sure what he’s supposed to do now that he’s sat next to Renjun, who’s still very much a product of his apparent mental breakdown and definitely _not_ real, thank you very much. Jaemin is saved from deciding to do or say anything when Renjun finally stops giving him that look that Jaemin can’t decipher and asks, “You really still don’t believe I’m real?”

Jaemin rolls his eyes and finally retracts his hand from Renjun’s knee. “I don’t know what you want me to say. I’ve never believed in this sort of thing.”

“I can’t believe you’re facing an _actual_ ghost right now and you’re _still_ denying that ghosts exist,” Renjun nearly shouts, exasperated. “I just broke your damn vase! Look, you can’t feel a heartbeat, can you?”

Renjun reaches out and grabs Jaemin’s hand before Jaemin can protest and lifts it to his chest. Sure enough, Jaemin can’t feel a heartbeat, but he does feel Renjun’s chest underneath his palm. It’s cool to the touch, and his chest rises and falls with his breath, and Jaemin has to pull his hand away because even if he doesn’t feel a heartbeat, Renjun feels so _alive_ under his hand. It’s hard for him to reconcile this Renjun with the one he saw in a casket six years ago.

Jaemin scrambles for something to say because maybe if he has a conversation, he won’t actually feel like he’s gone mad. “If you’re a ghost, then tell me what it’s like.”

“Honestly, it’s not that different from being alive,” Renjun tells him. When Jaemin looks at him skeptically, he continues. “I mean, obviously it’s different because I don’t need to eat or sleep or whatever, but I can still do other things. I’m talking to you now, aren’t I?”

“Sure,” Jaemin says. He’ll play along for now. “Alright, ghost Renjun, then what are you doing here?” He almost asks _where have you been,_ but he’s not sure he wants an answer to that.

Renjun looks a bit hurt by the question for reasons that Jaemin doesn’t know until Renjun answers, “I miss you.”

The way he says it is so soft and genuine that Jaemin feels a lump form in his throat, and that’s where he draws the line. He stands abruptly, startling Renjun. “No, I’m not doing this. I’m taking some fatass sleeping pills and sleeping until you leave,” he states, his mind made up.

The air around them bristles and the lights flicker when Renjun stands with him, upset again. “I’m not going anywhere, dumbass, I’m _real,_ and I’m here, and you’re just going to have to accept it!” he yells. Every light bulb in Jaemin’s apartment bursts, sending small shards of glass flying at his outburst.

Jaemin doesn’t flinch—he only levels Renjun with a look of his own, overdo anger beginning to flow through his veins. “Go somewhere else! What are you even _doing_ here?” he asks, matching Renjun in volume. Jaemin realizes, in the back of his mind, that he hasn’t let himself become this emotional in years.

Six years.

“I told you, I’m here because I miss you, stupid!” Renjun shouts. The only light in Jaemin’s apartment comes from his window, casting Renjun in an orange glow from the sunset. He can see Renjun’s bottom lip wobble as tears streak down his cheeks, and it paralyzes Jaemin.

The two of them stand facing each other, breathing heavily, and Jaemin can’t help but notice how real Renjun looks, how real the situation feels. Their faces are close enough that Jaemin can feel the cold that’s coming off of Renjun’s skin, every exhale of frustration. He can see that shine in Renjun’s eyes that he remembers so vividly, no matter how hard he’s tried to forget.

All at once, the fight drains out of Jaemin as he watches the tears drip off of Renjun’s face and onto his floor. He’s left feeling exhausted, and it must show on his face, because the tension releases from Renjun’s stance, and he wipes at his eyes uselessly.

Jaemin laughs at that, remembering how many times Renjun did exactly that when they were still children, but it comes out strained. “You’re not going anywhere, are you?” he asks the ghost.

Renjun takes his hand away from his eyes, and Jaemin’s heart constricts at how they’re rimmed with red. He sniffs and says through a pout, “No, I’m not, you idiot.”

All Jaemin can do is sigh, but it’s fond. “Okay.” He takes a deep breath, closes his eyes for a moment, and opens them again. Renjun is still standing there, so he takes another breath. “Okay.” He sits back down onto his bed and watches as Renjun hesitantly follows, sitting next to him. They look each other in the eye, and Jaemin takes another breath and steels himself. It’s what he’s gotten good at over the last few years.

“I’m going to sleep,” Jaemin says. When Renjun opens his mouth to protest, Jaemin continues, “I’m sleeping because I’m honestly fucking exhausted.” He lies down in his bed and pushes himself towards the wall, tapping the empty space that he’s created. “You gonna join me?”

It’s not a strange request; the two of them have shared a bed more times than they can count. But that was back when Renjun was alive and when Jaemin could wrap his arms around him and feel warmth. Now, when Jaemin asks, his heart beats in his ears because he still doesn’t know what’s going on, but fuck it, he’s gonna roll with it.

Renjun seems to consider the question for a while with his eyebrows drawn close. He opens his mouth like he wants to say something but decides against it, and he ends up lying down in the empty space next to Jaemin. The two of them face each other, and Jaemin can feel the cool air that Renjun breathes out as it fans gently across his face.

Jaemin allows himself to unabashedly study Renjun’s features like this—his features are the same, but more defined, and he’s lost some of the baby fat that he used to have on his cheeks. He looks aged, and Jaemin wonders if his mind could really manifest an older-looking Renjun that looks this real.

His eyelids grow heavier despite his brain yelling at him _you’ll lose him again if you close your eyes._ The exhaustion wins out in the end and he lets his eyelids fall shut, the image of Renjun staring back at him fondly engrained in his mind.

Before Jaemin falls fully asleep, he mutters, “I miss you, too.”

He hears Renjun chuckle lightly. “Go to sleep, Nana,” he whispers softly.

Jaemin feels the weight of Renjun’s cold hand over his own, and he sleeps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know it's been like a hot minute since i updated, and truthfully i've had this chapter written for a while. i keep working on this and getting stuck intermittently which is frustrating, but i want to finish this, so hopefully there will be updates (even if sparse). let me know what u think so far !! <3


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bit of a lighter chapter, emotionally. don't worry i'll pile on the angst soon :~)

Jaemin wakes up alone, like he normally does. Of course.  

He takes his time fully waking up, since it’s a Saturday, blinking his eyes slowly and curling up tighter in his blankets. He stares at the empty space next to him and reaches out a hand to pat it. It’s cool to the touch.

Jaemin hums. “Some fuckin’ dream that was,” he mutters to himself as he sits up. He knows his hair is sticking up in all sorts of directions, but he ignores it for now, instead getting out of bed to shed his clothes that he fell asleep in.

He’s walking to his closet when he feels something sharp under his foot. He yelps and hops backwards back onto his bed. When he holds up his foot to examine it, he finds a tiny shard of glass in it, drawing blood.

“Shit, sorry, I thought I cleaned it all up,” Jaemin hears from beside him on the bed. He jumps and whips his head to the side. Renjun is sitting next to him, looking guilty. He’s still older-looking and blonde.

“Jesus, where did you come from?” Jaemin blurts out, still holding his foot.

Renjun raises an eyebrow at him. “I’ve been here,” he tells him. “I’ll help you with that,” he says, gesturing to Jaemin’s foot. He gets up and heads over to Jaemin’s bathroom, giving Jaemin time to calm himself down.

“Where’s your first aid kit?” he hears Renjun ask from the bathroom.

“Uh, under the sink,” Jaemin answers, head still spinning. He’s starting to think he should call Jeno and tell him what’s happening. Maybe Jeno needs to stage an intervention.

Renjun comes back out, first aid kit in hand, and he kneels in front of Jaemin. “Move your hands,” he demands. Jaemin complies, but he hisses in pain when Renjun swiftly picks the glass out of his foot. He quickly wipes it with an clean wipe and covers it with a band-aid. “All better,” Renjun smiles. He pats Jaemin’s foot, and Jaemin thinks that this mental breakdown of his is pretty next level.

Either that or this is seriously real.

He watches Renjun set the first aid kit down on his desk and feels like crying. He swallows the feeling down and asks, “You put the flowers in a new vase?”

Renjun glances down at him and shrugs. “I couldn’t get you new flowers, but I didn’t want to throw them out either… I hope it’s okay.”

Jaemin looks at where the now-wilted flowers sit in their new vase and decides he doesn’t mind. “You didn’t have to clean,” he tells Renjun. He sees the trash can by his bed and notices that it’s filled with shards of glass that must have been from the night before.

Renjun just shrugs again. “It’s fine. I had time to kill since I don’t sleep.” He picks up the glass that Jaemin had stepped on and tosses it carelessly into the trash. “I can’t get hurt by it either, so it was safer for me to clean it instead of you.” He has another look on his face that Jaemin can’t read, and Jaemin wants to understand him but isn’t sure how, anymore.

Instead of commenting on it, Jaemin just says, “Convenient,” and stands again. “Thanks.” He looks to his desk and finds his phone, fully charged.

“I charged your phone, too,” Renjun explains. He grabs hold of the first aid kit and walks to Jaemin’s bathroom to return it. “Oh, Hyuckie and Jeno seem like they _really_ want to talk to you,” he mentions on his way.

Jaemin is confused before he remembers he sent Donghyuck a long-winded, unnecessarily angry text yesterday. He falls onto his back, his fluffy sheets making a little _poof_ sound as he does so, and brings his hands to his face when he groans.

“I know you’re just going to ignore the texts until one of them comes here and checks on you, so you might as well look at them now!” Renjun yells from the bathroom.

“You don’t know that,” Jaemin grumbles back, even though Renjun is absolutely right. Muttering to himself about how stupid he is, he sits back up and takes his phone. He’s greeted with four texts from Donghyuck (excluding the ones that are just _“????????”_ and no other words), a few from Jeno, and missed calls from both of them.

 

_9 December_

_From: fullsun_  
5:30 PM  
??? jaemin i swear i didn’t put those there?

_5:32 PM  
why would i do that, you know i only give those flowers to injunnie _

_5:33 PM  
have you let anyone else into your apmt? maybe you should get your lock checked ?_

_6:25 PM  
hello,,, jaemin,,,,, answer me sir ,…….let me know you’re still alive ……,,,,,_

_From: jen <3_  
5:45 PM  
Hyuck told me about the flowers again, is everything ok? is someone breaking into your place?

_6:52 PM  
Jaeminnie :(( answer me….._

_10 December_

_From: jen <3_  
10:24 AM  
are we still on for today? call me when you see these :c

 

Jaemin groans. He was supposed to get lunch with Jeno and Donghyuck like he does every Saturday, but—

“So what did they want?” Renjun asks nosily, peeking his head back into the room.

Jaemin watches his blonde bangs sweep over his wide eyes. “The blonde looks good on you,” he says sincerely instead of answering.

The tips of Renjun’s ears go a bit pink, and that’s at least one thing that Jaemin expected. The familiarity of Renjun’s transparency makes him grin as Renjun mutters out, “Thanks.”

Jaemin brings his phone back in front of his face to look at the three missed calls (one from Donghyuck and two from Jeno). The screen stares back at him; Jaemin knows he should call them back, probably tell them what’s going on and that they should knock some sense into him, but as he flicks his eyes to the side and sees Renjun looking at him curiously, he doesn’t. Instead, he sends Donghyuck a short text apologizing for his outburst yesterday and telling him everything was fine, but he had a lot of work to do so lunch was a no-go for today. He hesitates, wondering if he should text Jeno as well, but he knows Donghyuck will let Jeno know what’s going on, so he lets his phone fall to his side on the bed.

Renjun sits next to him and raises an eyebrow at Jaemin’s discarded phone. “Everything okay?”

_Absolutely not,_ Jaemin thinks immediately, but all he does is nod. He looks at Renjun’s face, into his eyes that are the slightest bit unfocused, and wonders what he’s looking for in them.

“I know what you said last night,” Jaemin starts. Renjun furrows his eyebrows a bit but nods, so Jaemin continues, “but tell me, for real. Why are you here?”

Renjun’s lips purse, and Jaemin’s eyes flick down towards his mouth at the action, but he waits for Renjun to answer him. “I don’t… I’m not sure,” Renjun finally says. “I do miss you,” he follows up quickly, as if Jaemin had any reason to doubt him, “I missed you a lot. I miss everyone, but you—you never said anything. When you visited.” His eyes shine with unshed hurt, and Jaemin’s stomach drops to his feet.

“I’m sorry,” Jaemin says quietly. He doesn’t know what else to say to his friend, his _dead_ friend. He doesn’t know how to explain to Renjun that speaking to him or even thinking of him made everything too real. “I didn’t know you were, uh, listening.”

“Of course I did. I was always listening.” Renjun brings his knees up to his chest, another familiar action that makes Jaemin’s heart stutter.

“What do you mean, ‘always?’”

Renjun’s eyes meet Jaemin’s over his knees, but he looks away quickly. “I can hear whenever someone thinks about me, or whenever someone talks to me. It was silent at first, for about a year? Time passes differently when you’re. You know.” He rests his cheek on his knee and faces Jaemin. Jaemin thinks he looks lost. “It’s sort of like sleeping, but I knew that time was passing. I was aware of that. I started hearing everything after the first time you guys visited my grave.”

Jaemin swallows thickly. “What’s it like?” he asks, curiosity getting the better of him.

Thankfully, Renjun doesn’t seem to mind, as he looks up, thinking of how to best explain it. “Like I said, it was sort of like sleeping. Everything was dark, so I couldn’t see anything, but I started hearing around that time.” He looks at the floor and grins fondly. “I heard Jisungie first.”

“First?” Jaemin wonders aloud.

Renjun nods. “I started hearing from everyone in bursts, and I hear some more than others. I hear from Jisung a lot since he’s _very_ convinced I’m still ‘out there.’” He side-eyes Jaemin with a glare.

“Well, would you look at that, he was right,” Jaemin deadpans back. “Tell me more.”

Renjun scoffs. “It started with Jisung. He had a hard time shutting up, which isn’t surprising since he’s always in his own head,” he complains. Jaemin watches him soften as he continues. “It was nice, though, to hear from someone after so long. I heard from Donghyuck next, then I heard from Jeno not long after. I hear from Jeno and Jisung the most. Jeno always thinks of me before he sleeps,” Renjun says. There’s a look on his face that’s akin to affection, but Jaemin can’t quite place it.

There’s a lump starting to sit uncomfortably in Jaemin’s throat, and he swallows around it. “What do they say?” he asks, voice quieter than he intended.

Renjun spares him a quick glance. “That’s not for me to tell, is it?” he shrugs.  

Jaemin lifts an eyebrow at him. “Boring,” he says, earning him a soft punch to the arm. He feels Renjun’s small fist connect with his bicep, but it’s cold, even through his clothes. “Can you hear them now?” he asks, curiosity peeking through again.

“No, I stopped being able to hear them ever since I followed you home—”

“Creepy.”

“—so I haven’t heard anything for about a week,” Renjun finishes, and he huffs. “And excuse you, if I hadn’t followed you home, you would have never believed in ghosts, so ha! Score one for the believers,” he celebrates, punching his fist into the air.

Jaemin stares at his mini rejoice blankly. “Frankly, I’m still not convinced this isn’t just me having a breakdown, but sure. Whatever. Believers: one, Na Jaemin: absolutely fucking devastated. You got me there.”

Renjun scoots closer and nudges Jaemin with his shoulder. Jaemin holds back a shiver from the misty cold he emanates. “Hey, it’s not so bad being wrong! I mean, I’m here. I’ve always wondered what being a ghost was like,” he muses out loud.

Jaemin’s shoulders relax at that and he offers Renjun a grin. “Yeah,” he agrees, remembering how often Renjun would talk to Donghyuck and Jisung when they were kids about what haunting others would be like. “Hey, if you’ve been here for a week, why didn’t you appear to me earlier?” he realizes belatedly.

Renjun makes a small _ah_ sound. “You had class, I didn’t wanna bother you,” he shrugs.

Jaemin stares again. “Right,” he says skeptically. “And the flowers?”

The blonde looks confused for a second before he remembers. “Oh, the hyacinth and the forget-me-not’s?” Jaemin nods. “Yeah, that wasn’t me. That was the big guy upstairs.”

Jaemin blinks. “The b—God? Are you talking about God?” he asks, gaping. “God left some flowers on my desk?” He looks upwards and squints his eyes. “What was all that about, man?” Jaemin says to his ceiling.

He’s met with no response, but Renjun laughs loudly. “He probably just wanted to instigate something, make it less weird for when I finally showed myself. Don’t think it worked, did it?”

“I mean…” Jaemin thinks about if there hadn’t been any flowers mysteriously appearing on his desk, what it would’ve been like to see Renjun without seeing the flowers first. Even if he didn’t know where they were coming from, the flowers reminded him of Renjun. At the time, it made him angry, but… “I guess it softened the blow. Maybe,” he shrugs. “Why would God want all this, anyways?”

Renjun twiddles his thumbs in his lap, looking pensive. “I think he wants me to come home,” he says softly. Jaemin’s breath hitches but evens out just as quick. “I’ve been stuck for too long,” he breathes out.

When Jaemin turns his face to see Renjun, he looks tired, suddenly. “But you can’t…” he starts carefully.

Renjun looks up with a slightly frustrated grin. “I can’t move on yet,” he finishes for him. “But I don’t know what I’m still here for.” He groans lets himself fall back into the bed, palms covering his eyes.

Jaemin looks at him, amused for a moment, before pulling his legs up onto the bed and crossing them, facing Renjun. “Okay, let’s think. We’ve seen a lot of ghost movies and stuff, we can think of something,” Jaemin says seriously. “And Jisung is always spouting bullshit about ghosts. Or not bullshit, I guess.” He tries to recall anything he can from Jisung’s rambling, annoyed for once that he never gave these ghost talks his full attention. “Uh, do you have, like unfinished business? That’s a ghost thing, right?”

Renjun shrugs. “I can’t _think_ of any unfinished business.”

“Any regrets?”

Renjun looks at Jaemin wearily. “We all have regrets,” he drawls dramatically, and Jaemin holds back the urge to kick his leg out toward him. “But nothing that would keep me from kickin’ it in Heaven,” Renjun continues.

Jaemin racks his brain for anything else, but comes up empty. “Well, I’m out of ideas,” he says unhelpfully, making Renjun sigh loudly from his place on the bed. “I don’t know, dude! Maybe I should ask Jisungie,” he mumbles. He thinks for another moment. “Is there anything you’ve noticed that’s weird, different? Like… something’s off? Maybe we can start there,” he considers.

Renjun pushes himself up so that he’s resting on his elbows. “I mean… kind of?” His eyebrows furrow and his lips purse cutely. Jaemin barely resists the impulse to pull at his cheeks. “You know how I told you that I could hear people’s thoughts about me and stuff? And that I couldn’t hear you?” Jaemin’s ears perk up, and he nods. “Well, it… wasn’t just you I couldn’t hear.”

Jaemin cocks his head to the side slightly in interest. “Who else?”

Renjun rolls his head to the side and looks down. “Mark and Chenle.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for sticking with me through this! i've been writing a ton more recently, so i'll try to update more frequently <3 let me know what you thought in the comments or my cc!

**Author's Note:**

> pls let me know if you'd like more of this fic! also let me know what you thought of this (pls be nice tho i'm not used to posting anything i write lol). 
> 
> talk to me here!
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/mochibbh) // [cc](https://curiouscat.me/mochibbh0201)


End file.
